


Ever After

by arioseDreamer



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, College AU, Domestic Boyfriends, First Time, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, NSFW, i dunno tagging is difficult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arioseDreamer/pseuds/arioseDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean has been dating his boyfriend for over eight months and loves him more than anything, but, despite his sexual experience with women, he's never been with another man, and he's nervous about screwing things up. Marco, however, has an idea to put him at ease.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> Short JeanMarco drabble after a prompt by [knoxvilleknockoff](http://knoxvilleknockoff.tumblr.com/post/75572077788).
> 
> Also domestic boyfriends teasing each other makes me happy.
> 
> I just want more happy JeanMarco.

In one hand, Marco held a cup of hot coffee. The fingers of his other hand were wrapped in his boyfriend's mittened hand. It was far too cold to be out without cause, and Marco would be the clever one to forget gloves. He shivered, took a gulp of the hot coffee, and inched closer to Jean for warmth. Jean noticed, and squeezed Marco's fingers.

"I can't believe you left without gloves, idiot," Jean said, his words muffled slightly by the scarf covering his mouth.

Marco swallowed another mouthful of the hot liquid. "Wasn't like I meant to do it on purpose. Couldn't help being in a rush."

"Well, you shouldn't've taken extra hours when it's cold as balls and icy." Jean was frowning behind his scarf, Marco was sure of it. Marco smiled winningly at him.

"Well we wouldn't be having this lovely chat in the icy weather if I hadn't," he said. "And we wouldn't get to spend this time together." Jean shoved Marco, but playfully, and Marco was certain now that he was smiling. Because, of course, not spending time with Jean was ridiculous. They'd been living together since Jean's junior year in college (Marco's senior), dating since Marco graduated. Eight months later, they still kept the same apartment in the college town they'd been living in for the past three or four years. Marco was still working at the coffee shop he'd gotten a job at as a freshman, moonlighting as an independent artist. Jean, still studying his ass off in a criminal psychology major, was now a senior.

"Still doesn't change the fact that you're too nice," Jean was saying. "Geez, taking hours on a call at six in the morning because someone else couldn't make it in because of the  _goddamn weather_. Hell were you thinking?"

"That Eren deserves a break every now and then, and it's not safe to drive on these roads when it's this icy anyway, and I can just walk in like always, it's only a few blocks—oh, Jean, don’t—"

"You took extra hours to cover for fucking  _Jaeger!_ "

By this point in the conversation, they'd reached the apartment building. Marco had since ditched his empty coffee cup in a trash can and abandoned Jean's hand to fish in his pockets for his key as they took to the stairs. Jean didn't seem to mind terribly the loss of his boyfriend's hand, as he was too busy gesturing emphatically while he told Marco off for covering Eren's shift.

"I can't believe you. That asshole skips class, forgets his goddamn homework, and has the nerve to beg Armin and Mikasa to help him cram the night before an exam!"

"You're just pissed he still manages to do better than you on the exams," Marco retorted, and felt bad immediately.

"I'm just a poor test-taker," Jean griped bitterly.

Marco wasn't sure whether the other man was flushed from the cold walk home, or out of anger or embarrassment, but with the scarf now hanging loosely about Jean's neck, Marco didn't have to guess that he was frowning. To be on the safe side, he snuck a kiss to Jean's temple as Jean passed him on the way into the apartment. "Sure, babe," Marco replied, closing the door behind him.

Such a kiss was not enough for Jean, it seemed. The other boy pressed his lips to Marco's, pushing his back against the door with the energy behind it. Marco returned it willingly, enjoying the tingling feeling of warmth returning to the cold places of his face, particularly the junction of their mouths.

Jean pulled away, smiling now. "You know, you owe me one."

"Is that so?" Marco asked, and stole another brief kiss.

"Yeah," Jean replied. "For waking me up at shitty hours in the morning." Another kiss. "And for covering Eren fucking Jaeger's hours." Another. "And for going to work on our snow day." The kisses were getting progressively more drawn out between sentences, and Jean was finding he had less and less breath with which to form words. "So," he panted finally, smiling against his boyfriend's lips, "how're you gonna make it up to me?"

Marco's mouth curved into a smile after he snatched one last kiss. "How about we spend the rest of the day playing video games and making out, and we'll have cold pizza and beer for dinner?"

That was more than alright with Jean. Especially considering that they didn't end up playing much video games. One round of Mario Kart later found them both wearing T-shirts and boxers in a furious make-out session on the couch. Jean was trying to kiss every one of Marco's freckles he could see, but he had two problems: the freckles seemed to go on forever across the neck, shoulders, and body of his boyfriend; and Marco kept pulling their mouths back together, which put Jean back at the beginning again.

Jean started following the meandering trail of freckles again. Marco was content this time to let him continue down that route, choosing instead to press his face into the joint of Jean's neck and shoulder. He hummed contentedly while Jean pulled aside the collar of his shirt to reveal more freckles. "God, these just go on forever," Jean murmured.

"You say that every time you do this, Jean," Marco laughed softly. His hands rested on Jean's shoulders and back, and he toyed with the hem of Jean's shirt. Jean's hands found their way under Marco's shirt and tugged it up and off. Marco was doing the same to Jean, and it resulted in a complicated tangle of limbs and clothing as they both tried to struggle out of it and continue to kiss the other. It dissolved into laughter, the careful extrication of arms from T-shirts, and a few soft kisses in between.

Marco sat upright, his laughter dying off slowly. Jean scooted closer to lace their hands together and continue to kiss him. He picked up where he left off, kissing the freckled skin of his boyfriend's shoulder and the back of his neck. Marco leaned closer to Jean, reaching his free hand over to place on his boyfriend's knee. He felt Jean twitch at that and smirked, sliding his hand further up Jean's thigh.

Jean tried to hide a sigh in a cough, but Marco wasn't fooled. Jean retaliated by threading his free hand through Marco's hair and tilting his head back to kiss and nip at the skin of his neck and throat. Marco got a pleasant shiver up his spine at the feeling of lips and teeth on his skin, and an equally pleasant rush of warmth to the pit of his stomach. He twisted and pulled Jean down on top of him, kissing him firmly as they fell into the cushions.

Jean's mouth was too close to Marco's ear for the brunet to miss the quiet whine. Marco smiled into the kiss and pulled Jean closer, tangling his fingers in the longer blond strands of his boyfriend's undercut. Jean moved his hips experimentally. He felt Marco's fingers tense then relax, and did it again.

They separated when Jean ran out of air, and Marco just sighed by his ear. Jean tried to control his breaths, but only barely managed to whisper, "Let's have sex."

Marco chuckled, and kissed the closest bit of skin he could find. "Thought you'd never ask."

Five minutes, and much insistence from Marco that he had everything they needed, found them in their bedroom. Marco had fished condoms and lube Jean hadn't know he possessed out of a drawer. Jean was blushing to his ears, and Marco only marginally less. Marco sat next to him on the bed and offered a condom. The blush crept further up his face as he said, "I hope you don't mind. I kind of, um… I like to be on the receiving end of this." Jean was silent for a moment too long, and Marco scrambled to add, "I mean, unless you don't want to—I can—"

"Oh my god, Marco, no, it's fine I just—God, don't just say something like that." Jean covered his face with his hands. This level of blush was downright embarrassing for a grown ass man. Especially one who was about to make love to his boyfriend of eight months. He took the condom, then, seeing the concerned look on Marco's face, kissed him as an afterthought. "I mean it, really. I'd like to—"  _put my cock in your ass._  Jean finished the thought silently, unable to make himself say it. It wasn't that he was  _inexperienced_  per se. But he'd only ever had sex with women—the furthest he'd ever gotten with another guy was touches.

Marco leaned over and kissed him. Then kissed his jaw and followed the sharp line to his earlobe. Jean was leaning back on his arms by this point, one hand caressing Marco's waist. "So, you gonna put that condom on, or do I need to give you a blowjob with it?"

Jean spluttered and fell onto his back. " _Marco._ God, ugh—fuck you!"

"That's the goal here."

Jean made an incoherent groan of frustration. "I can handle that. You just—just deal with the lube, okay? I have no idea what to do with that…"  _Fuck,. I'm gonna be awful at this. And Marco's gonna_ know _. He's been with other guys…_  But Marco just kissed him again and moved away. Jean rolled the condom on and tried not to stare too obviously as Marco stripped off his remaining clothes and applied the lubricant.

Then it occurred to him that this show was just for him and he could stare all he liked. And Marco, naked with his hand between his legs, was definitely something Jean liked. As was evidenced by his half-hard cock twitching while another rush of blood flooded his lower body.

Jean closed his eyes, and sighed a raggedy breath, determined not to come just by the sight of the brunet prepping himself. That would be more embarrassing than anything so far. Marco's lips met his before he could open his eyes again and led him into a kiss that brought him kneeling over Marco between the other boy's legs. A hand touched his face briefly then disappeared, leaving a slick trail of lube behind.

Marco broke the kiss and tucked his head under Jean's chin. Jean was momentarily confused but then a hand still slick with lube caressed his cock, applying more to it. A sound of pleasure escaped Jean's lips to nestle in Marco's hair, and Jean felt the flutter of eyelashes and the brush of lips against his skin. Then Jean was wrapped up in all of Marco's limbs, hearing his name murmured in Marco's voice, and there was the ghostly flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

Jean swallowed hard and pushed Marco away a bit as he sat back, unable to look at his boyfriend. "Jean?" When Marco spoke again, it wasn't the same sexy whisper that had set Jean's head spinning.

"S-sorry." Suddenly, Jean's mouth seemed too dry for him to speak. He licked his lips and tried again. "Sorry, I'm just—I'm not good at this and I'm going to mess everything up and it'll hurt you or you'll hate it or s-something—" He broke off and dropped his face into his hands.  _God, I've ruined it. He's never gonna want to have sex with me._

Marco sat up, chuckling. "Is that all?"

"Is that—what?" Jean suddenly found himself on his back, his lover straddling his hips and kissing his collarbone.

Marco was laughing lightly at Jean's plight. "I mean, unless you don't want to have sex with me," he answered, fingers tracing circles over Jean's ribs, "I can do this part myself. You don't have to worry about hurting me, or me not enjoying it."

"Of course, I want to have sex with you," Jean blurted, trying to ignore the heat between his legs and the friction Marco's position was causing. He grabbed Marco's fingers. "What do you need me to do?"

Marco kissed him briefly, and pulled his fingers free. "Enjoy yourself," he said simply, and shifted position.

Being ridden wasn't a new experience for Jean in and of itself. There was one girl he remembered being particularly good at it, but being ridden by Marco was a category unto itself. It was infinitely different, infinitely better. Jean's hands settled onto a comfortable position at Marco's waist, and he felt the rhythm of his lover's movements and groaned in pleasure.

Marco was quieter than Jean, concentrating on finding the right angle, the right depth, until he found it and settled into a steadier rhythm. Marco ended up with his hands splayed on Jean's chest to support himself. He bit his lower lip, and as he brought himself down again, he moaned softly. As the heat pooled in his crotch, Marco found it more difficult to maintain a constant rhythm and his voice got louder.

"Marco—" Jean started after a particularly loud vocalization from his boyfriend.

"Jean, it's fine. It just, it's good, Jean." Jean had picked up on the rhythm. The hands on Marco's waist slid to his hips and helped him keep up the movements. Marco laughed lightly. "And you said you weren't good at this. Liar." He leaned closer to Jean's face. Jean sat up and met him halfway for the kiss.

"You're amazing, Jean," Marco whispered into the kiss. It gave Jean's stomach another fluttery feeling to taste the sound of his name in Marco's mouth. Marco shifted again, changing the pace, moving faster and taking Jean deeper, and any thought of Jean replying was lost in the wordless gasp and moan it drew from him.

Marco was kissing his neck and face and jaw, and Jean didn't know what to say or do. "I love you, Jean," he was saying between panting breaths. "You mean the world to me, and I love you so much."

Jean's hand carded through Marco's short locks. He cradled his neck, slid his other hand back around Marco's waist, and pulled him into a deep kiss. "How the hell," he puffed, "are you…talking…that much… when I'm…so goddamn close to—"

He cut off as another pulse, another beat of his heart, sent blood straight to his cock, buried deep inside Marco. Marco was placing light butterfly kisses on Jean's lips, his face. He placed one on his temple, his cheekbone, the shell of his ear, then whispered, "Jean, touch me."

Jean looked at him in momentary confusion. Touch him? They were touching in so many places, where else could he possibly… He flushed as Marco, impatient, pulled Jean's hand from his waist and put it over his own cock. Jean swallowed.

"Don't you dare try to say you're bad at that too, liar." Another kiss, to his earlobe this time. "Please, I want to come when you do, and at this rate…" He trailed off. Jean had gotten the hint and was making gentle strokes along Marco's length, his thumb brushing over the head then back down again. Marco made a small sound of pleasure at the contact, and had to remind himself to keep moving, but it just felt  _fantastic_.

They came within moments of each other. Jean first, still buried in Marco's body. Then Marco, grinding his hips slowly against Jean's to coax him through the aftershocks of his climax. He'd all but collapsed on top of Jean when the orgasm came. Jean roll them both onto their sides, and kissed Marco all the way through his orgasm.

Jean pulled out while Marco was catching his breath and discarded the used condom after he tied it off. He climbed back into bed with Marco, ignoring the fact that their heads were at the wrong end. Marco, now recovered, immediately began pressing more of those delicately light butterfly kisses to Jean's skin. Jean's chest filled with something unnamable, and he pulled Marco in close.

Marco shook with silent, pleased laughter and stopped kissing. He sighed and curled into Jean's chest. "Thank you," he said.

"For what?" Jean absently stroked Marco's hair, playing with the short stands at the back of his neck, enjoying how cuddly post-coital Marco was.

"For the best sex I've had in a while." Marco pulled back a little and smiled. Jean blushed, and he smiled wider. "I don't know what you were so nervous about," he continued brightly, sitting up to lean over Jean's chest, "but since we've affirmed that fact that you are, indeed, good at sex, next time, you're going to take me like a man and—"

Jean sat up quickly, kissed Marco briefly to shut up him, and said, louder than necessary, "I'm hungry. You're hungry, too. I'm going to call and order a pizza." The look in Marco's warm eyes was incendiary and mischievous, and Jean wasn't quite mentally prepared to hear Marco's sexual fantasies and desires stated quite so plainly, like an ordinary conversation topic. He didn't need another hard-on so soon.

He slid out of bed, picking up random articles of clothing and putting them on. As Jean stumbled out of the bedroom in search of his phone wearing his own boxers and one of Marco's t-shirts, Marco's deep, contented laughter followed him out. Jean smiled to himself the same affectionate smile Marco wore as he stared after him.


End file.
